Always and Forever
by Robotic Mind
Summary: Mello and Matt have been friends for as long as they have known each other. They will always and forever be friends. Unless they are torn apart by something unforeseen. [romance, angst] [MelloxMatt]
1. Part 1: Love

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Title: **Always and Forever

**Summary: **Mello and Matt have been friends for as long as they have known each other. They will always and forever be friends. Unless they are torn apart by something unforeseen. [romance, angst [MelloxMatt

---

Mello had always looked for acknowledgment. Not friendship, not even power, but recognition for what he has done. Always, he was Number One. The smartest, most cunning, clever little genius who succeeded at everything he did. Winning came easy, without even trying.

But then came a block in his road in success. It seemed small at first, a tiny boy named Near, who sat in the game room and played with puzzles all day. Mello watched him with guarded eyes, curious as to who this newcomer was, and why he shut himself off from the world. Friends had always been one of Mello's main concerns. After all, what were friends if not allies? No matter what happened in the game of life, friends would back you up, even give their life for you. In reality, Mello was not a friend back. He would not mourn deaths of those close to them, only accept them with a little bit of sadness, for he would have to find one to take their place. But this boy…this boy sat by himself, twirling a strand of hair around his pointer finger, and calmly put together the pieces of blank puzzles. The hardest puzzles that L ever gave them were solved in a mere matter of hours for Near, while Mello had sat for days staring at one when he was younger. Three days, and his patience had worn out. Standing up with a huff, he had kicked the puzzle pieces, shouting about how stupid the puzzle was, and how he had better things to do with his time. The puzzle pieces had been left scattered on the floor, battered by his fiery blind rage. Now they were slid carefully into place, one after the other, in a steady stream of solutions that seemed to never cease. Mello stewed and brooded over the fact that a boy that had barely been here a week could solve what he couldn't.

Over the next few months, power slowly slipped away from Mello's grasp. Without even trying, Near had stepped in and taken Mello's place as The Best. Number One. All of the tests, he aced. The puzzles continued to be solved. The other orphans stared in astonishment as the mutely silent boy won the game of intelligence. However, Mello was not going to go down without a fight. In fact, much of his life he had been fighting, even when not threatened. Challenges were what he lived for, and as long as he could overcome them, they were almost a game. Studying all night for most of the nights, and attempting to increase his intelligence during his free time, Mello was confident he could beat Near. The rivalry that the other boy was hardly aware of was a war-zone to Mello, and every move was carefully analyzed. The next test came and passed, and he waited anxiously for the results. It took three days for it to be graded, and those were the most anxious days of his life so far. Results could either make him, or break him, compared to what Near got. The day finally came when they were handed back, and Mello beamed and gleamed at his results. After class, he calmly walked over to Near, with an air that exuded confidence, power, and arrogance. "Hey, look at my grade," he had said, holding up his test for the whole world to see. Ninety-nine percent! One percent away from perfect, and nobody could be perfect, Mello had decided. "That's very good," the other boy said, looking up at Mello with a blank stare that held no emotion. "Well, what did you get?" demanded Mello. He simply had to know. He had to prove himself right. "A one-hundred," came the answer, spoken slowly and purposefully, although he did not notice the hint of a challenge in his own voice. Or, at least, challenge that had been interpreted by Mello. Standing in shock for a good, long moment, Mello did not move. His joints seemed to be frozen, as his stuttering mind failed to comprehend that not only was Near still better than him, after all those nights of studying, but he was also perfect. "What?!" he bellowed, fist slamming down on the desk. A crowd had gathered around them now, fueled by interest for the fight. Again he slammed his fist down, cracking the wood, and coming dangerously close to the other boy, who regarded him with slightly widened eyes. The crowd gasped in awe, although they were never surprised by Mello's random outbursts of anger. Mello had raised his fist again, this time aimed at the perfect boy still sitting, but a teacher had made his way over. "Mr. Mello!" he barked. "That is quite enough out of you! Come with me, if you will." It was not a request, it was a command. The adult grabbed Mello by his arm and dragged the boy behind him. Although walking completely composed, not afraid of repercussions, he craned his next behind him and shot a glare at Near that could mean one thing: certain death, certain rivalry, and certain failure. Mello's grip had loosed on the paper that held his failure in two simple numbers, and while leaving the room, it fell entirely. It drifted slowly to the ground, face up, as if for the whole world to see Mello's shame. The crowd by this time had dispersed, save for one person. Shaggy brown hair fell over the boys eyes as he watched Mello get dragged away, knowing he would be back tonight. He followed them out the door, by paused to look down at the forgotten test. Bending down to pick it up, he started to crumple it in his hands, wanting to erase this moment of failure from his friends memory forever, but instead stopped. Shrugging seemingly to himself, he shoved the piece of paper into one of his deep pockets, and resumed returning to the room.

Later that night, Mello returned to the room he shared with the shaggy haired boy, Matt. Matt was sitting on one of the beds, fingers flying over a laptop, although his eyes were unfocused on the screen. The door flew open with rage, banging against the wall, and nearly rebounding back into the face of the boy who came practically flying into the room. Without turning, he swung the shaking door shut behind him, somewhat pleased with the reverberations around to room from the slamming of the wood back into its place, still wobbling unsurely on its hinges. Mello took forceful strides to his bed, and rammed himself down on top of the comforter, not even taking off his shoes before turning over onto his back.  
"Bad?" Matt asked distractedly. By now, he was used to Mello's frequent visits to 'the man.'  
"Bad?! BAD! You know what they did Matt?" he asked loudly. Without giving Matt to even take a breath to answer, he plowed on. "You know what they did? They accused me of being jealous! Jealous, Matt! Of that freak! Who spend all his time sitting, playing with stupid games, that won't even help in real life! I have experience! I'm better! I'm better, Matt! I'm better than him!" Glancing up at his clearly enraged friend, Matt gave a little sigh. "They're idiots, Mello. They don't even know who you are." Lifting himself from his bed, he walked over to his friend, stopping awkwardly at the bedside. They stared at each other for a long moment, Mello's eyes bright with wrath, Matt's soothing, calming. "They don't know you," Matt whispered, voice soft and low. "You will always be better than him, and he knows it. He's just trying to….show off." He stumbled for words to calm down his friend, who always seemed to be in a flurry of emotions. Personally, Matt didn't know why Mello let such things get to him. He was so strong, so sure of himself, yet he lashed out at anybody who spoke otherwise, like he wasn't comfortable in his own skin. "Near knows," Mello visibly winced at that name, "that the only skills he has is intelligence. You have so much more. Cunning, cleverness, skill…" Mello almost didn't care that Matt was being redundant with his choice of words. He sighed in resignation, closing his eyes momentarily. "It's just…" he trailed off, searching for the right words. But Matt knew how he felt, it was indescribable. It was the feeling that you were better, but nobody would sit up and take notice. Like you were undiscovered, your own brightness dwarfed by something burning brighter, but that other light was a falsity. Despite that, it still drowned you in failure and resentment. "T-thanks," the overly-emotional boy said, the emotional upset finally disappearing from his voice. "No problem," Matt smiled. It was a gleaming, joyous smile, complete with flashing cheeks and glimmering eyes. "That's what friends are for, right?" Reaching down, he brushed a lock of blond hair from the perfect face below him, using his fingers to gently comb it back behind the boys ear.

"You'll always be my friend?"

"Always and forever."

---

**A/N: **This is the first chapter to a three chapter series. I like to think of Mello as a hurricane, causing destruction and fueled by rash actions. Matt, I like to believe, is his calming force. Telling him to think reasonably, slow down, and take time.


	2. Part 2: Lust

**Title: **Always and Forever

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Warnings:** Man sex! And not exactly very well written man-sex, either.

---

It wasn't like they weren't busy. After all, chasing Kira was a very demanding case. The events that directly related to Kira were, unquestionably, the most influential part of life, even compared to the past. It controlled everybody's actions, thoughts, and concerns. Being one of the people who wanted to kill Kira, Mello had it very hard. It was proven that most people in the world thought he was doing good, or pretended to, so that they themselves wouldn't be judged. Mello thought this was all very despicable. Another thought he detested was the fact that Near was also working on the case, and beating him, at that. Mello never had a direct plan, and most conclusions he made were found by pure chance. Luck was on his side, and intimidation. Another thing on his side was Matt.

So, it wasn't like they weren't busy. They were terribly busy. Mello made plan after plan, formulating ideas that might work, then throwing them out at a moments notice. Matt was always there to help, his face lit by a glowing laptop constantly, always hacking, always searching, always serving. But they always made room for sensual activities that they both needed. Both tried to focus on their work, but if they hadn't gotten what they wanted from the other in a few days, they broke down. Even if their plans were about to fall apart, or about to solve a most important question, they could not resist. It was as much for the release of sexual tension as it was for the feeling of being loved. It was a cold, hard world out there, especially with ties to the mafia and Kira.

Mello came home one night, drifting into the apartment like an apparition, appearing out of the pitch-blackness. It was well after midnight, the only light coming from various technology that littered the floor. Matt was hunched over on the floor, face close to the computer, securing the system once more. Checking, re-checking, always covering his tracks. Heavy boots clunked on the floor, followed by the swish of a jacket, and the movement of leather. Power exuded from Mello's walk, power that Matt craved. He looked up at his friend, auburn hair shifting over his eyes, peering up at the blond-haired beauty that stood before him.

Mello's face was hard as stone, half-glaring down at the man sitting by his feet. A sadistic grin, however, ensnared Matt's lips, as he slowly raised himself to his knees, getting the wonderful sight of a crotch covered in leather right in his face. "Find anything?" asked Mello curtly, ignoring Matt's current position. "Nothing you would find interesting," the other murmured. However, almost as an afterthought, he added, "But I have something you _would_ find interesting." His voice was a low, seductive purr. Bringing his hands up, he rested them on Mello's thighs, using his nails to draw sharp patterns against the leather. "Oh? And what would that be?" Mello inquired, although his voice had taken on a sort of seductive tone. "Here, let me show you…"

And so, the games began. Matt ran his fingers up Mello's thigh in a hard rub, skirting around his crotch deviously. Reaching, he continued them up the taut stomach, feeling muscles tighten beneath his touch. Nails scraped against skin as he dragged them across Mello's back, digging them in as much for leverage as for the fact he knew Mello loved harsh treatment. The masochistic bastard. Bringing his eyes up slowly, Matt locked gazes with the one above him. His own stare was full of teasing lust, while those stormy eyes above him were telling him silently to continue, not to stop. Suddenly, Matt began to stoke the leather in front of him with his tongue. The taste of leather was sharp on his tongue, but soon its richness surrounded him, making his head swim. The heat from his breath warmed the leather, and long, hard strokes made Mello grip his hands tightly in Matt's hair. Using his teeth to unbutton the pants, Matt dragged his fingernails lightly up and down Mello's spine. Back arching, Mello tilted his head back and sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. The leather pants were being worked down his legs, pooling around his ankles, and freeing his member from the tight confines. As always, he wore no underwear. After all, visible panty-lines were not fashionable, and with the way his clothes fit him like a second skin…it was better just to not wear any at all.

But neither man was contemplating the lack of underwear, as Matt gave a tentative lick to the underside of Mello's cock. "God…" Mello breathed out, closing his eyes against the teasing sensation. Bringing the head into his mouth, Matt began to lightly suck. At a steady but painfully slow pace, Matt brought more and more of it into his mouth, tongue swirling against the soft skin. Moaning softly as the tip reached the back of his throat, Matt began to move his head backwards. As the head reached his lips, he moved forward, continuing a deathly slow pace. Every move was meaningful and calculated, and damn if he didn't take his time. Mello's moans grew progressively louder, but Matt's pace never sped up. "God dammit Matt, please. God…god Matt…." He could hardly work himself way a simple sentence. "I n-need it…so bad…" His voice was also wavering, stuttering. But he let the torturous mouth continue, before it moved away from his cock, licking and biting at his inner thighs. The taste of leather was even more pronounced on Matt's tongue as he continued his teasing, driving Mello to the brink, but denying him what he wanted.

After a particularly harsh nip that made Mello yelp out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, he push Matt down to the ground. Back now against the floor, Matt looked up with hazy eyes at the man standing over him, legs shaking, and his breaths coming in short, harsh pants. "Turn over," Mello demanded, with power dripping from his shaky voice. He had control over Matt now, even if he could not control his own desire. Complying with the demands made, Matt turned over, resting on his hands and knees. "Take off your pants." Already, his hands were fumbling with the buttons to his jeans. It took longer than it should of, but his fingers shaking with excitement and arousal. While moving his jeans and boxers down his thighs so he could kick them off, his hand accidentally brushed against his aching erection. Immediately, he dropped down onto his elbow, and bit hard into his right arm, trying to repress a moan. Now blushing furiously, Matt turned his head to the side, cheek resting on his wrist. However, his hand had not strayed from its previous position, and despite trying to resist jerking off before having anything done to him, he was slowly pulling and stroking his cock, eyes lowering to half-mast as they unfocused.

Mello watched the show, groaning slightly at the sight of Matt's hips bucking into his hand. Oh, how he wanted to watch the boy jerk off. He wanted to watch how Mello's mere presence drove the boy to such lengths, but Matt's moaning brought him back to reality. "Matt, stop," he commanded curtly, swallowing the lust that had threatened to finish them both before anything even started. Groaning into his arm, Matt let his hand fall to the floor, feeling the ache for friction he needed. "Prepare yourself." Turning around, Mello padded barefoot towards the couch, kicking his boots and pants off to the side. It was almost impossible to ignore his own erection, but Mello clenched his jaw and grabbed the lube that lay wedged between two of the couches cushions before returning to Matt. By the time of Mello's return, Matt had gotten three fingers into himself, stretching and moaning at the same time. It was a truly delicious sight: Matt groaning as he fingered himself, his position wanton and pleading Mello to get behind him and fuck him into oblivion.

Mello poured a generous amount of the lube into his hand before tossing it at Matt. Bouncing off his back, Matt quickly picked up the tube and coated his fingers with it before returning to the task at hand. It was a few moments before Mello knelt on the floor, and Matt felt cool hands grip at his hips. Bringing both arms so that they folded in front of him, Matt buried his forehead into them. "Ready?" Mello's voice was dark, sultry. It drew the answer out of Matt before he knew he had even spoke. And as soon as he had, Mello pounded into Matt. It was no longer slow, sensuous, teasing. It was like fire, uncontrollable lust, and it took hold of them both. Bringing his hips back, Mello forced himself into Matt again, and Matt sucked in air and gasped at the pain, but also the pleasure. There was always pleasure. Relentlessly, the movements never ceased, thrust after thrust after thrust. Matt's shirt was riding up, exposing his back and stomach. Mello dug his nails into Matt's hips, drawing blood in the shape of half moons.

"Oh god…Matt…so fucking t-tight…" Mello managed to gasp out. This feeling was driving him crazy as he tried to hold on. The pace grew faster, more careless, and neither cared about anything.

Pleasure was driving Matt's very being, taking him to new heights. "Fuck, Mello! Harder…fuck!" His body was moving backward to meet Mello's thrusts, and his stomach began to tighten. Mumbling curses into his arms and the floor below, Matt gripped his aching erection, hardly caring if he finished before Mello or not. The pace quickened even further, both being driven to the brink of what they could handle. Almost as fast as he pulled out, Mello thrusted back in again, not able to get enough of the tight, hot feeling.

"Fuck…Matt…I'm g-gonna…gonna come…god," he ground out, head bent over as he clenched his jaw, sweat dripping down his brow.

"God, Me-Mello," Matt panted, his hands pace an ungodly spead. "Oh, GOD!" he cried out, eyes shooting open as white hot surrounded him, his orgasm washing over him like pure bliss. Mello groaned behind him as Matt got unbelievable tighter, squeezing him almost painfully and sucking him back in. It took just two thrusts more for Mello to no longer hang on, for his head to be thrown back and an uncontrolled scream to rip itself from his mouth.

Collapsing on top of Matt, Mello registered enough thought-processes to pull out of the man behind him before letting euphoria wash over him.

They always took a break from the investigation because, just plain and simple, they needed to feel good every once in a while.

---

**A/N:** Second chapter is UP. Sex. Pretty much just an excuse to write sex. -nodnod- Not well written sex, though. I get emotions involved too much, which is funny, since I'm not a big fan of silly emotions other than: lust, wrath. Um…yeah, that's pretty much it. xD


	3. Part 3: Lost

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Death Note. At all.

**A/N: **Finally! Last chapter of Always and Forever. My keyboard has been screwy for at least a week now, and at one point my space bar was a button. (I spilled diet coke all over it, go figure.) Now it is the space bar taped to a piece of cardboard. O.o

**---**

Two deceptively small holes burned with such intensity it set his whole body on fire. Pain filled him, his heart, his lungs, his head. It was pure intensity surrounding him, blurring his vision, causing his mind to go blank. However, despite his body and mind shutting down, Matt was able to gasp out one last, very eloquent good bye:

"Oh shit."

**---**

"_This is never going to work." Matt was always rather blunt when it came to Mello's plans. He would always criticize them, saying they were rushed, rash, and harsh. But he always listened anyway, and did whatever Mello needed._

"_It'll work." It was more to convince himself than it was Matt. It was, by far, the most outrageous plan he had made so far._

"_But, I don't even have a weapon." Matt crushed his cigarette in the ash tray, and Mello crunched a piece of chocolate while thinking things over._

"_Intimidation is a power. You have information. I mean, look where information and intimidation got me." Mello licked his lips to clean them of chocolate while Matt snorted. It had gotten them power, true, but it put them in a very compromising position. Giving a little sigh of resignation, Matt pulled out another cigarette to light, and nodded his head casually. "Yeah, alright. What do you want me to do now?" A grin tugged a little at Mello's lips, although he knew Matt would eventually agree. Leaning over the couch, Mello brought his lips to Matt's. The warmth shared between them was instantaneous, both were calmed immeasurably by each others friendship, love. Mello pulled back a little. "Just wait," he whispered against those lips, before leaning in to give one last kiss before he left. While Mello swiveled around and made his way out the door, Matt brought the cigarette to his lips and lit it up. _

"Fuck."

**---**

Mello stood there, numb. The news was devastating, to hear the least. He lost a best friend. He lost the only one who understood him. He lost somebody who always listened, never question. And damn it, the plan failed, too. Kira had one. He stood nostalgically in the door way of the apartment, a bar of untouched chocolate clenched between his white knuckled. How could this happen? It wasn't like the plan was very well thought out, but hell, none of them were. But why did Matt have to die? Why now?

Mello had once been close to death, too. Caught in the midst of a fiery explosion, heat engulfing his body with unearthly pain. Nerve endings had screamed out in torture, his very skin had melted off. It left him permanently scarred, and he had to lie low for months as he recuperated. He would have died, too. If not for Matt. He had saved him. Brought him back from death, from the point of no return. Mello owed Matt his life, even if Mello claimed he didn't owe favors to anybody. Then, Matt had been caught in the gunfire. Where was he? Where the hell was he, when he was supposed to be there, saving Matt's ass? Continuing the plan. With no regard for anything else, only success. Like always.

**---**

"_I have information!"_

_Information and intimidation. Exactly what Mello had said. Right. This will be a piece of cake. A breeze._

_Matt lifted his smoke gun, waving it around like it meant something. "You wouldn't kill me! I have what you want to know!" An unspoken dare filled his voice. _'Go ahead, kill me. I dare ya.'

_And they did. _

**---**

He didn't move. He hardly breathed. Shock made his way through his body, locking up his legs, unfocusing his gaze. Always pretending nothing really mattered other than success, he was finally forced to reevaluate what he had really lost. Sanity, friends, himself. Did First Place really matter all that much?

Long ago, Mello had thought friends were simply allies. Easily replaceable, not meant to be lamented over, supposed to be forgotten. But as tears stung at his eyes, he realized that this was one friend he did not want to loose.

Allies were expendable. They stood by your side, fought for you, even died for you, because they had something to prove to you. Prove they were worth being your friend, worth basic human feelings. But Matt, he had nothing to prove. And still, he listened to Mello, obeyed Mello, and ultimately, died for him. What's more shocking than this act of undeniable love, Mello had acted the same way back. Thinking to himself grimly, Mello realized that he, too, would have taken a bullet for Matt. For his friend. For the one he loved.

And it felt like he had.

**---**

Hours later, after gliding through the apartment like a ghost, sifting through random papers on the table, kicking an empty cigarette box before putting it gingerly back in place, Mello started to leave. With his back to the rooms, he stood in the door way, teeth clenched around a bar of chocolate. The tears had long ago dried, although the pain kept shooting at his heart, clenching and releasing his body in rhythmic patterns. But as he looked into the hallway, Mello allowed himself one insane, toothy grin. His canines gleamed in the dim light, and his lips were cracked, and there were dark circles under his eyes. It was a smile that spoke something rather simple: lost.

Mello had lost the game.

He lost Matt.

He lost himself.

He was completely and totally lost.

"But hey," he spoke out loud to himself, voice hoarse and cracking,

"at least now I have nothing to loose."


End file.
